


Safe

by delorita, JC Oakenshield (SilverFountains)



Category: Da Vinci's Demons
Genre: Anal Sex, Boys In Love, Dissociative Identity Disorder, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Kiss, First Time, Humanism v Religion, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Internalized Homophobia, Jealousy, M/M, Pansexual Character, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-07
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:53:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delorita/pseuds/delorita, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverFountains/pseuds/JC%20Oakenshield
Summary: Set immediately after Girolamo Riario's attack on Laura Cereta. Leonardo is still convinced he can mend Riario's broken mind if only he has enough time to study what lies at the cause of it. But perhaps there is another reason also why he is keen for Girolamo stay with him a while longer ... Can he really tame the monster of Italy?





	

_How long has he been here? And where_ is here _?_

Girolamo Riario does not want to open his eyes, afraid of what he may face when he does. His feverish dreams have been full of haunting images and he cannot be sure which were real and which were the spinnings of his tortured mind.

_Laura…_

He can hear a familiar voice in the distance. One that somehow seems to fit together with that name and yet he cannot quite piece it together.

“Girolamo?” Leonardo asks softly.

He sits cross legged on the floor beside the makeshift bed on which the count lies. After he’d managed to convince his patient to not kill Laura Cereta they’d kind of crumbled on the tiles of the Church together. Riario had been in a trance like state and the artist had to half carry him to his workshop with Zo's help.

He hesitantly puts his hand onto his forehead as he says his name again.

Riario's fight or flight instinct kicks in instantly when he feels the touch against his skin and his burning eyes spring open as he curves up his back. His hands shoot out like daggers at his assaulter.

“Hey!” Leo presses his free hand down onto the count’s chest but doesn’t pull away the hand the other had caught. “You are safe, Girolamo. No one here to haunt you,” he murmurs in a hypnotizing voice. “You are safe,” he repeats, staring into the count’s unfocused eyes.

_Safe …_

Girolamo tries to focus on that soothing voice. His eyes are streaming, burning again with that excruciating pain that plagues his subconsciousness as much as his physical self, always returning him to his captivity, the restraints chafing his wrists as the salt water drives him to the brink of madness.

_Safe…_

He recognises that voice. It's the voice that talked to him before when his nightmares battered him senseless. The voice that stopped him from killing her…

_Leonardo._

“I know you’re hurting,” Leo carefully pulls his hand away now from that loosening grasp but takes Riario’s forearm and hand lightly into his. “I felt the same.” As he turns his patient’s wrist, he stares at the cut marks not only from the leather boundings they both were wearing, but also from Girolamo’s suicide attempt. _I did not feel that desperate though._ He strokes his thumb very gently across that scar, not moving his eyes away from his tortured face, reading every nuance of pain in it. _I must remain aware of his moods. I need him to relax._

Riario feels the tension in his muscles slowly drain away under those soothing touches and gentle words. He rests back down, closing his eyes again as the darkness is just more comfortable. “I… didn't… kill her?” he croaks.

“No,” Leonardo is surprised that those are the first words out of the other’s mouth. He had expected some form of verbal attack, something furious and angry. But it seems as though his soothing words have reached inside and the saint has won the inner battle for now. He smiles even though the other’s eyes are closed. _He looks so beautiful._ He bends down and follows his gut instinct, softly brushing his lips across that angry red scar on Girolamo’s wrist to soothe him further. His eyes still focused on his face.

“Good,” Riario breathes out slowly. He means the fact that he had not killed again. But equally it's a fitting appraisal of the caresses of the physical scars of his despair. “Thank you.” Another duality. _For stopping me. For taking care of me._

Leonardo feels like he wants to soothe that whole battered body with kisses like that, but he restrains himself. He carefully strokes the other’s arm where he’d given him the injections before. “You are welcome,” he murmurs. “Do you want me to apply something to your painful eyes...?” _Rio._ Leonardo bites his lip to not use the name he’s given Count Riario in his head ever since he had realised that he interests him and not just in an intellectual way.

Riario snorts. “I seem to be your patient a lot,” he laughs softly. “I'm starting to think you enjoy it.” He swallows, wincing at the pain in his throat, which feels dry as sand. “Please. And may I have some water, _medico_?” he jests.

Leonardo chuckles, “What if I do enjoy it?” he allows the question to hang in the room as he gets up and walks over to his medical shelf. _Medico? I like that. I like that a lot._ He squeezes his eyes shut as he feels what almost sounds like a word of endearment go straight to his cock. _Not now!_ He wills his waking erection away by furiously thinking up the recipe for the eye drops he has to make fresh. 

Girolamo smiles to himself at that comment. _Perhaps I enjoy it too_ , he muses. He listens to Leonardo rummage around, trying to draw up the picture in his mind of what he is doing, imagining him concocting some new alchemical potion.

“Why didn't it work?” he asks. “The treatment. You thought you'd mended me. Is there no hope then?”

The question stabs straight into Leonardo’s heart because it’s laced with so much despair and hopelessness, and also into his brain, because he doesn’t know the answer anymore. He thought he had tricked the Labyrinth’s poisons and curses, but obviously, he hadn’t.

He walks over to the bed again and passes Riario a leather flask of fresh water. “I… “ he rakes his hand through his hair. _Truth or lie? No, we'd agreed on truth._ “I don’t know,” he admits.

Riario briefly opens his eyes. The sting isn't as excruciating now. Rather just sensitive to the light. He accepts gratefully as Leonardo helps him sit up a little and guides the flask to his lips. It reminds him of their journey coming back from the New World, when the other man had taken care of his badly broken leg. _I do enjoy it, his attention_ , he admits to himself, slowly sipping the cool water that cures the burning bitterness in his throat.

“Then why am I not in chains?” he asks when his vocal cords are lubricated. “Have you lost your mind? You've seen what I'm capable of. You… you should turn me in. Let me face up to my punishment.”

Leonardo considers all those questions, while propping up cushions behind Girolamo's back. He wonders briefly if the count is really that weak or if he only pretends to be. He subtly feels for his pulse point. _Normal, no acute danger._

"I will not do that. And you're not in chains because I don't fear your monster anymore," he sits down beside Riario again. "I'm very capable of fighting it with my own, now that I understand its triggers. And as I'm no threat to you, Girolamo, you should be none to me. "

Riario smiles a little at that, giving a brief nod in acknowledgement. He closes his eyes again, realising just how much trust he now places in the younger man sat beside him. His body and mind feel like they've been dragged through hell and back but sitting here in silence next to the only person he can confide in feels as comfortable as he is ever going to feel.

“I do not want to burden you,” he says eventually though. “I am not your problem, Leonardo.”

Leo sits quietly, studying his patient -and the man of his desire- closely, his fingers tapping against the flask he's holding. A thousand thoughts flit through his mind at how best to answer all these questions and statements. It is very seldom that he encounters someone who is as smart as Girolamo _._

Eventually he gets up to finish mixing the eye elixir together. "You are not a burden," he murmurs, half hoping the man on the bed won't hear it. _And you are my problem, because I do not want to let you out of my sight. I've grown way too fond of you._

Girolamo watches the skilled man through his hazy vision. He really wonders why Leonardo is wasting his time with him, why he doesn't just drag him onto the streets to face justice. Nonetheless, even though his pride and his repentance long for punishment for his heinous deeds, his heart at least for now is happy to be in the care of the man he has grown to admire.  

“Please move your head back a little,” Leonardo is well aware that Riario must feel a wave of panic as he moves the small vial with the eye drops into his view. He himself feels very itchy, thinking about something getting dripped into his eyes yet again. “It’s soothing herbs.” He moves his arm behind the count’s shoulders to try and support his head.

Girolamo swallows but nods in agreement, yet again placing all of his trust in the man he once considered his worst enemy as he leans back his head against Leo’s supporting arm. He reminds himself how he had sought the torture of the Labyrinth voluntarily and he will face this treatment with the same stoic resolve. “Do it,” he orders, looking up into those piercing eyes above him.

“It won’t sting.” Leo knows that since he’s used this potion on himself a few times already. He concentrates on those dark, mysterious pupils, applying five drops carefully to each eye. He admires Girolamo for holding completely still, not blinking even. He finds himself absentmindedly stroking his cheek after he’s finished. “And besides,” he says very softly, swallowing a big lump in his throat, “I think you’re your own worst punishment at the moment, you don’t need to get punished by others as well.” He resists the strong urge to press his lips against the other’s forehead.

 Girolamo realises he is shaking slightly as he had tensed all his muscles involuntarily as soon as Leonardo had brought the tincture towards his eyes. But the other had not lied and instead of the burning pain his brain had come to expect from such a treatment he feels an instant soothing relief and relaxes back against that arm again.

He snorts at Leonardo's words. Before their great adventure he would have thought him dramatic and weak for saying such a thing. Now, however, he has learnt that the artist is far from those things but rather that he has a completely different experience of the world than he has. And he knows that Leonardo is right in what he is saying; that no-one despises him more, hates him more than he himself.

Now that the sting in his eyes is subsiding he feels a heavy drowsiness follow and he briefly wonders if Leonardo has drugged him too. But he accepts the surrender regardless, feeling too exhausted to argue, even if he fears the moment that his monstrous nightmares will come for him.

“Thank you…” he sighs as Leonardo helps him to rest back down before he passes out again.

+++

“Can I ask you a big favour?” Leonardo asks as Riario sits opposite him, digging into a nice warm loaf of bread, cheese and fresh fruit. He likes to see his patient with so much appetite for the first time in almost a week and silently thanks Zo for thinking about the fact that even he has to eat now and again, providing them with this fabulous meal. Even if he feels guilty for kind of tossing him out again after he had brought it round.

Riario looks up from his welcome solid meal. He had felt ravenous as soon as the smell of the fresh bread had drifted into his nostrils and thinks that that surely must be a very promising development in his recovery. Just sitting up, getting about on his own steam, without being dependent on Leonardo looking after his most basic needs is restoring his self-confidence. However, he had not been too quick to reveal the extent of his returning strength to his medic, partly because it's well ingrained in him never to give too much away about his defences. But also -and he cannot deny it- because he has actually enjoyed having Leonardo dote on him. And he already regrets that soon he will have no excuse to stay here any longer.

“A favour?” he asks curiously, wondering what he could possibly offer this man that would even come close to repaying his indebtedness to him.

“I… I want to study what’s going on inside of you some more, to help you,” Leonardo starts a little embarrassed, not really knowing how to address what he wants Riario to do. “I mean, I know what’s going on inside of me, when I have my endless internal battles, but that isn’t really helpful.” He points his knife into the air. “So, I was wondering if you would either write it down when something bothers you especially, or if you’d come and speak to me about it?” he holds his breath, wondering if he would drive the very private man completely away from him with his request or if he maybe actually might get punched. _Please don’t think I am completely bonkers._

“You want to study me?” Girolamo raises a bemused eyebrow. “What am I to you, _artista_? Another game, another puzzle for you to solve?” He puts down the piece of bread and folds his fingers together, looking intently at the man opposite him.

“Not… not study you!” Leo backpaddles, “Your… your... sickness,” he breathes out a long sigh, truly relieved about Girolamo’s reaction. A smile slowly curls his lips, “Yes, maybe you’re another new, very interesting, very challenging puzzle for me to solve… _count._ ” He lets the sentence hang in the air, sipping on his wine, fixing the other over the rim of his goblet intently. _I hope I am actually able to solve it though._

Girolamo is surprised by that admission; he had not expected that. His instinctive reaction is to take offence to being treated like some object of Leonardo's obsessive mind but in his gut that idea feels rather exciting. Besides, the man had just offered him the perfect excuse to stay here beyond his initial welcome.

“You want me to lay bare to you my darkest thoughts,” he states slowly. He picks up his knife again and plunges it purposefully into the apple on his plate. “And what about yours, Leonardo da Vinci?” He raises his eyes slowly to him, balancing the apple on the point of his knife in front if the other. “If I tell you my secrets, will you tell me yours?”   _This could actually be a very beneficial arrangement ..._

Leo thinks about that for a few moments. It would only be fair, wouldn’t it? He holds Riario’s gaze, a pleasant chill moving down his spine, tingling around his groin. But he shoves the sexual desire aside. Studying the saint and the sinner would give his mind so much more pleasure than the quick release sex would give his body. He feels his excited thoughts already start to dance around the new challenge.

Initially he had wanted to answer the question with _maybe_ but, “Yes,” slips from his lips far too quickly. “I think that would only be fair...Girolamo.” He holds up his goblet in a toast, not even sure yet if the man opposite him agrees or not. He only knows his proximity makes his mind and body sing on a whole other level than other people ever did.

Girolamo gives the other man a half smile in return, raising his own beaker against his, wondering what secrets Leonardo may reveal to him and also what secrets the other thinks he still has to share in turn - surely in his delusion the worm inside had already shown him every devious thought in his rotten brain. _I am not sure what you are hoping to gain from this, Leonardo._ “To this new challenge then, maestro,” he says though. “And to solving our inner puzzles,” he adds with a wink.

"To solving our inner puzzles," Leonardo is more than pleased with the outcome of the situation. He smirks just knowing that there's lots going on behind that half grin of Rio's.

He really wants to find out why his treatment didn't work. He's pissed about that. Nature putting barriers in his way is not a thing he wants to submit to.

And maybe, with Girolamo living in his place… who knows what else might happen. He did not shove him away after all, when Leo is very aware that he's overstepped some very strict boundaries.

+++

“Count, you have a visitor," Leonardo says loudly after opening his door, letting Laura Careta in, frowning. _She’s got guts to come here and ask for Count Riario after he tried to kill her._ He wonders briefly if she would trigger something in his patient and he watches him very closely as he steps down the stairs, looking glorious in only his silky shirt and snug fitting trousers. _I must paint him like that._

Riario freezes as soon as he sees who has come to seek him out here. “Signora Careta,” he nods politely, formally.

Leonardo closes the front door and even though he feels an immense internal struggle whether to stay - from of a purely medical point of view, of course - he leaves them alone, fuming. _Am I jealous?_

+++

Leo searches feverishly for an empty canvas that also has the right size to perfectly portrait Count Girolamo Riario on. He curses when he doesn’t find one immediately and instead sits down with his notebook and starts to sketch the person of his desire with his coal pen first. _Would he sit for me? Would he laugh at me? Will I find the right colours?_ His brain has suddenly swapped the medic for the painter and he’s impatiently waiting for Riario to send the woman on her way. _Will he go with her?!_ His lines get quicker and quicker, more and more desperate, until he throws the pen into the corner. _Fuck! I need him!_

Girolamo flinches as he is nearly hit in the face by Leonardo’s flying pencil when he enters his studio and his hand automatically shoots out for his dagger, only remembering then that he had just given that to Signora Laura Careta.

“Are you alright, Leonardo?” he asks as he bends down to pick up the projectile, holding it up to the other man.

Leonardo blinks at the object of his desire, not really believing that he’s still here. “I need to paint you. Now.” He blurts out way more harshly than he had intended to. His eyes pleading softly in stark contrast to his words. _He’s perfect for painting._

“ _Paint_ me?” Girolamo needs a moment to digest this when his brain is still churning through the conversation he has just had with his only surviving victim. His lips twitch slightly, as they do when he is thinking things over, weighing up the proposition. “Very well,” he decides in the end as he cannot think of a good reason why he should object.

“Thank you,” Leonardo sighs in relief. “Please sit over there in the half sun, half shade,” he directs. “You’re a perfect model,” he chews on his pen as he watches Girolamo awkwardly sit down. He walks over and lies his hands onto his shoulders, “Allow me,” he says as he slightly turns the other man so that one part of his body is in the shadow and one part in the sun, a perfect line visually slicing him in two. “Can you please stay like that? I’ll try to be quick since the light is changing soon.” He doesn’t move his hands away as he looks down into Riario’s eyes. The warmth of his skin kind of scorching his hands through the thin material of the shirt.

Girolamo feels his heartbeat speed up a little as the artist positions him, moving his body with such care, such precision. To have his eyes meet his own in this way, not in manner of challenge and not even a manner of acknowledgement, but much more … With the eyes of an artist. As if he is glancing deep into his soul. He nods briefly in agreement, barely daring to breathe in case he ruins the image that Leonardo clearly has in mind. He understands all too well that to be part of Da Vinci’s creation, no _subject_ of his art even, is the equivalent to something sacred.

“Beautiful,” Leonardo breathes out as he measures the handsome man’s face with his pencil. He lies his forefinger beneath his chin and moves it up just a tiny fraction, “Yes, just like that,” he says under his breath and then quickly turns around, walking towards his easel. He cannot have Riario see the growing bulge in his trousers as he stood so very close, touching that well-groomed beard so intimately.

Even though he cannot see Leonardo or his painting of him from where he is sat, Riario can sense his movement from the corner of his eyes. _Knowing_ though that the other man’s eyes are scanning his body and translating it onto his canvas is a thoroughly confusing experience. On the one hand, he feels very uncomfortable being stared at like that. It’s a vulnerability he is certainly not used to since most people tend to quickly avert their eyes when they see him, either out of respect but mostly out of fear. But on the other it is an almost peaceful experience to just sit here. He does not have to think, he does not have to do anything at all in fact, other than sit still. It’s a feeling akin to deep prayer; an almost trance-like experience.  

The longer Leonardo outlines that perfect body onto his virgin canvas, the more peaceful his mind gets. His eyes flitting from the man in the shade and the light onto his easel and back, muscle after muscle, fine structure of that well modelled face, the shortly cropped hair at the base of his neck. Leo sighs, his tongue wetting his lips as he enjoys focusing on perfect beauty of nature.

“Were you... were you alright with Laura?” his voice sounds way too loud in the warm afternoon atmosphere. But his medic had simply challenged the artist to not forget about his task. Besides, he must distract himself from getting pulled too much into lusting after Girolamo. Drawing his body almost feels like caressing it with his bare hands. He bites his tongue, hating himself for ruining the peaceful moment.

 For just a moment Riario forgets Leonardo’s instruction as he turns his head towards the painter, but then catches himself and returns to his position best he can. “I …” he begins, not sure whether he is allowed to talk but then since Leonardo asked him a question he assumes he can. “She said she forgives me,” he says softly.

Leonardo swallows, “Good.” His pencil completes a few more lines in silence before he asks again, “I mean, did she trigger…” _the sinner, “_ anger or something like that?”

_I don’t want to talk about this right now._

_But we must!_

_You want to study the sickness, even though he seems healed at the moment._

_Don’t be lured into a trap!_

Girolamo thinks about this for a moment but then smiles. “No. Not this time. But …” he wets his lips a little, thinking about their awkward exchange, “I gave her my dagger. Just in case I ever ... I would not want her to get hurt. I do not want to hurt her again …”

Leonardo looks at the son of the church intently. “That sounds sincere, my friend,” he hesitates for a moment, before asking the most difficult question, “Do you love her back?” His gut churns heavily as he waits for the answer. Dreading to hear a yes.

Riario does move his head in an instant at that, raising an eyebrow at the other man. He holds his gaze for a long moment. “What business is that of yours?” he retorts eventually, closing the door to his soul rapidly.

Leonardo groans. _Wrong tactic. And here I thought he trusts me now._ He resumes with his sketching. “None I guess,” he says through gritted teeth, willing Riario to not give up modelling right now after he’s clearly upset him.

Riario takes a long deep breath, trying to concentrate on his task again. “She is … a friend,” he says slowly, even though Leonardo had not pushed him for the answer.

Leo looks up in surprise at the willingness of Girolamo to answer him anyway and still sitting perfectly in the required position. “That’s good.” His heart leaps joyously at the fact.

“Why do you care?” Girolamo asks, suddenly curious where that question had come from. 

Leonardo pins him with his stare after his pen had been furiously scraping on the paper, letting Riario’s straight lined face appear. He lets out a long breath, mulling over the answer in his head. “Because I’ve grown fond of you,” he decides for a bold statement.

Girolamo draws in a sharp breath at that. He opens his mouth to respond but closes it again, unsure what to say or how to take Leonardo's compliment. In any other context he would have smiled at that. And possibly even have answered in kind since he has developed a great admiration for the eccentric genius. But after the comment about Laura and the question about his feelings for her, he understands that Leonardo may be talking about something else altogether.

 _He's a sodomite,_ it turns through his head again and again.

 _No, he loves your cousin!_ He tries to reason with himself.

“I have no doubt that it would not please Lucrezia to hear you say that,” he dares, trying to make light of that admission, whilst at the same time trying to gauge the other’s reaction as he challenges him about his own affections.  

Leonardo frowns deeply, “How is that Lucrezia Donati’s business?”

Riario smirks, grateful to have manoeuvred the conversation back onto a playing field he feels more comfortable with. “Now, now, no need to be shy, Leonardo. I know you've been fucking her. You and most of Florence. And I don't think it's a secret that she would welcome my neck in a noose.”

Leo cringes that Riario knows about this. ”A man has his needs,” he says nonchalantly, not liking the direction the conversation is taking. _It’s only fair. You asked him about Laura first._ While he thinks that his pen is making progress on the canvas, not wanting to lose his enthusiasm because of the challenging conversation.

“So I've heard…” Riario pushes a little. He is curious now though, whether Leonardo means that dismissive comment about his cousin when he’s pretty sure there was more to it. But then, he _was_ charged with sodomy… _And acquitted,_ he reminds himself.

_Why do you even care?_

“I… I'm wary,” he states, getting ready to get up from his seat, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable with where his thoughts are going. “Perhaps we can continue this another time?”

“Just…  just a moment longer, please.” _For once I want to finish something. Too bad the spell is broken and the sun is gone._

Riario reluctantly sits back down. As he listens to Leonardo’s coal pencil scratch across the surface of his paper he thinks about what the other had said again. And he realises that it's not Leo’s words that confuse him. After all others had expressed their interest in him over the years, including Laura, and he had simply learnt to let them down gracefully or very occasionally, if it was a woman, he spent a night with them. But in the main he had little interest in such things. And love was a ridiculous notion at best. He knew enough of the depravity of mankind to know that every man and woman sought only to satisfy their own perversions or use the other as a means to an end.

Zita had been different though. She was the first woman who had shown him genuine kindness. And when they had spent months together on that cursed ship it had built an even greater connection between them. She was the only woman whom he had felt something for. He had truly cared deeply for her and her death had hurt him more than he could put into words. But even she had not captivated him like…

_Da Vinci?_

He swallows, shifting slightly now. He can feel something stir in his gut and it's worrying him.

“We have to stop,” he says harshly, getting up again.

It creeps up on him like an assassin, this darkness. He can feel it find its way into his bloodstream as the pressure on his brain becomes unbearable. He scrunches up his eyes, knowing he's losing control. “Get out…” he chokes, all too aware that he isn't chained up anymore.

Leo looks up, instantly alarmed. He quickly observes the changed posture of his model, the grim expression on Riario’s face, his hands crampy and his voice verging on that edge of craziness. _Damn, the worm has reappeared._ His mind works feverishly on the why while he forces his body language to one of calm and soothing.

“No. But thank you for the warning,” he says softly, his whole body on self-defence alert. “I want to show you our finished product first,” he turns around the easel hoping it has the desired effect of confusing both sinner and saint inside the man he almost confessed his love to. “Thank you, Girolamo, for sitting for me. It has been an honour.”

The drawing shows Riario completely drawn with coal pencil. One side light and one side several shades darker. His face in a contemplative expression.

Girolamo stares at the drawing, seeing his own reflection stare back at him. But in a way that only Leonardo can see. Both sides, the light and the dark, the saint and the sinner, brought together to make a whole.

He takes a step back, wobbling slightly. The worm is still there, he can feel it throb in his temples. But there isn't the venom and the bloodlust that normally follows. Rather a curiosity and an appreciation. As if the darkness inside is grateful not to be dismissed but to be recognised as part of him.

“That's incredible,” he rumbles deep in his throat, feeling the tension subside.

Leonardo lets out a long breath.

_It worked. Acknowledging the whole of him works!_

“Thank you, Girolamo,” he smiles, not knowing what to do with his hands since he actually wants to draw the man in and hug him. He turns the easel back and adds some more strokes here and there. _I must give him his own time. I cannot pressure him or seduce him too strongly._ He thinks, aware that positioning him as model was alright, but verbally expressing his feelings wasn’t.

“ _You_ are incredible,” he says in response to the other’s praise, not meeting his eyes though. He’s focusing on his sketch as if talking to it, turning his back to him as a sign of trust. _Foolish. Very foolish, Leonardo._

Girolamo smiles at that, but he will take no risks when he can feel his mind so very close on the verge of splitting. “I'm retiring to my room. Thank you for asking me to pose.” And without waiting for another response that may just trigger his fragile hold to slip he rushes out of the studio and up the stairs to his chamber.

Leonardo puts down the pen as soon as the other is out of the room. He rubs both hands over his face, his nerves singing both from getting aroused during painting and their mellow afternoon and in stark contrast to that being all strung up in expectation of the monster attacking him.

 _Fuck, you’re playing with fire here!_ He reprimands himself but a wicked smile curves around his lips as he sits down with the notebook he’s given the title Sinner and Saint, scribbling furiously into it.

He looks up at is new creation now and then, chewing at his pen, wondering how to perfect it. If it would look more fitting in oil paint or watercolour.

+++

“You dirty fucking whore! I will shove my cock up your arse and make you scream for me, you bastard!”

Leo’s eyes spring open in alarm and to his shock he finds himself pinned on his back on his bed with Riario straddling him, holding him down, his silhouette rearing up over him in the moonlight.

“What the fuck?!” In a reflex of self-defence he brings one hand up against his assailant’s throat and one against his shoulder and pushes with all his might while bringing his leg forcefully up between Riario's. He doesn’t manage to reverse their positions since Riario in his madness is way stronger than him, but at least he rolls them to the side.  

Riario growls at the pain that shoots through his stomach from Leonardo's defensive move. But it only fuels his rage as he grapples with the other man, trying to get hold of his arms. “Don't you push me away, you filthy heathen bastard!” he snarls. “You _want_ this! You have been begging me for it, seducing me with your drawings and your poetic words, luring me in. Don't you dare deny that you are lusting for this depravity, you fucking sodomist!” he hisses in his face, spittle flying into his beard.

The words hurt so much more than the actual bodily attack. The sting in his heart makes Leonardo momentarily motionless. He knows it’s the monster speaking. He can see it in Riario’s bloodshot eyes and definitely hear it in his venomous, mean voice. His just awakening mind works in overdrive how to deal with this.  

“You are _nothing_!” Riario snarls close to Leonardo's ear, trying to pin him underneath him again as he presses his hard-on against the other man's thigh. “Bastard child! Son of a whore! _Nothing_ you hear me!”

“Count! Snap out of it!” Leonardo pushes with all his strength and manages to tumble them onto the floor together, straddling the other this time. “Focus! LOOK at me and not through me damn!” He has no other choice as to crush Riario’s windpipe again briefly to make him stop struggling. He’s very tempted to answer with just the same profanities but that won’t bring them any further. He quickly pins the count’s arms above his head, aware that he’s aroused. He frowns, leaning over him, waiting.

Riario gasps for air and tries to buck the younger man off him. When he cannot he begins to laugh loudly. “Do it then!” he howls. “You wretched boy! Beg for it! You always beg for it in the end. Just like your mother did!”

 _Wretched BOY? Mother?_ Leonardo shakes his head and something occurs to him. He lets Riario’s hands go and slips off him, sitting beside him as he did when he woke the first time from his nightmares. “No, this is not how this works...Rio,” he dares to take the other’s hand into his, well aware of possible punches or kicks or anything, but since he is weaponless, that won’t matter.

“Yes, I’ve tried to seduce you. Yes, I wa … I would like to be together with you,” he swallows, “but only if you want it too… Girolamo.” Leo kisses the knuckles that may just send his teeth flying.

Riario scowls at Leonardo. _Leonardo…_ As his senses return to him the face beside him sharpens, morphing back into that of the Florentine artist, not the distortion of his mind.

A choking sound escapes his throat as he flops back onto the wooden floor. His limbs feel heavy as all strength leaves him.

Leonardo sighs, banging his head slightly against the wall behind him as he realises what must have happened to Count Riario as a child. He squeezes his hand as it’s still in his. “I’m sorry,” he says softly, lost for words.

“F-for what?” Girolamo blinks in confusion. He pulls back his hands and rubs his face, trying to push himself up. “I… What did I do…?” he asks slowly as he comes to realise that he is in Leonardo's bedroom. He swallows harshly, dreading the answer.

“I’m sorry for what must have happened to you as a child,” Leonardo starts, helping the other up to sit beside him.

“What are you talking about?” Girolamo growls.

“You woke me up, straddling me, yelling at me that you want to shove your cock up my arse…”

Girolamo chokes on his own spit at that, a furious blush appearing in his neck and across his bare chest. “I... I…” He dares not look at Leonardo, total embarrassment at what had occurred in his delusion crushing him.

Leonardo looks sideways at Riario, “And since you also called me a wretched boy and all manner of things I shan't repeat I concluded someone must have harmed you when you were a child…” He doesn’t know where to put his hands. He needs his pen, otherwise he may end up stroking Girolamo’s thigh, which is totally out of the question right now. He starts to knot the laces of his breeches into patterns.

Girolamo closes his eyes and leans his head back against the wall. He understands very well what the other is implying but his memory of his childhood is just a void, as if Girolamo Riario didn't exist before the murder of his mother. He has little doubt, however, that it's true that the rot in his heart is credit to his father.

“I am truly sorry … Leonardo,” he whispers. “The insanity of my black soul appears to have no boundaries…”

“I truly want to help you, Rio,” he says without looking at the man beside him, but moving a little closer so their shoulders touch. “It might be that what you just relived is where all the evil came from.” _At least I think it does. My father wasn’t particularly kind either but he would not have sunk that low._

 _Rio?_ Girolamo smiles at that.  “I don't remember…” he says honestly. “I remember nothing of my childhood..”

He turns to Leonardo, returning them to the here and now. “Forgive me for repaying your hospitality so poorly. I don't know what to say... ”

Leonardo feels Girolamo’s eyes on him and he turns too, looking at him in the moonlight. “It’s alright, you are my puzzle, remember?” He winks, not in the slightest bit offended.

Girolamo nods at that, smiling softly at the other man, grateful that Leonardo does not appear angry with him. “I should keep you from your sleep no longer,” he says as he pushes himself to his feet. “May I ask _you_ a favour? Would you please lock my bedroom door so that I may not cause further insult or harm to you.”

Leonardo frowns at that, “And keep you prisoner? I don't know if that is a good idea," he thinks out loud, still sitting on the floor, looking up at Riario. "The sinner might be even more offended by that..."

“Then what do you suggest, maestro?” Girolamo cocks his head at the man on the floor. “From what you are saying I threatened to rape you!”

"I know. But I must trust you. And I woke up in time, didn't I?" For some reason Leonardo isn't fazed by that at all. He knows he can stand his own against the skilled fighter and that's good enough for now. "I appreciate the suggestion though."

Girolamo shakes his head at Leo's recklessness, but takes a step towards the door to leave.

He stops, however, as flashes from their struggle return to him. He slowly turns to look back over his shoulder at Leonardo again. “Did … did you say, you tried to seduce me? Before?”

Leonardo's heart skips a beat at that question. _Now or never._ He slowly nods his head. “I did.” He stays nailed to the floor, hoping that admission won't drive Girolamo out of his house. He tries to capture his eyes in the dimly lit room with his, trying to convey the sincerity of his feelings.

Girolamo takes a couple of firm steps back towards Leonardo, bending himself down. He grabs the other man by his shoulders and roughly pulls him to his feet.

Leo’s muscles all tense within moments, getting ready for another fight, cursing inside. _So much for always being honest! That clearly backfired. I should have just let the damn question go. It’s way too ingrained into his brain, that word...sodomite!_ He clamps his hands onto Riario’s forearms, trying to get rid of that iron hard grip, shuffling his bare feet into a secure fighting stance.

Girolamo brings his face up close to the artist, scanning his eyes. He twists Leonardo's arms in a well-practised move, and pins them above his head as he pushes him back against the wall. He makes sure though to keep his eyes wide open, so that Leonardo can see there is no madness in them this time as he presses his lips against his suitor’s.

Leonardo’s eyes grow wide at the so not expected move. He stares right into Girolamo’s clear ones. No red, no madness. He doesn’t dare to move though while his heart hesitantly starts to beat faster. He has to admit to himself that he loves the strength that pins him to the wall in what now is a not threatening move. A groan escapes him unwanted.

Girolamo pulls back to assess Leonardo's reaction for just the briefest of moments. After all his mistakes, he needs to be absolutely sure. “You want this?” he asks in a voice that's swollen with want now.

“Yes! Very much so. But only if you want it too,” Leonardo moves forward a little to capture the other’s mouth again, his arms still pinned above his head. “I have desired you since you saved my life in the New World… “ 

Riario hesitates for a moment, still battling his morality with his own desires. “It's unnatural…” he swallows against his desires, pleading silently for the man he has pinned against the wall to convince him.

“I do not think it unnatural at all,” Leo breathes against Riario’s lips, “to admire beauty in all its facets. Whether the person I desire is male or female is insignificant to me.” He licks his lips a little, not sure if it would be wise to pull his hands out of the other’s grasp just yet. “I desire you, Girolamo,” he repeats.

Count Riario wordlessly lifts the other man up a little as he twists them both around towards the bed. The furniture creaks in complaint as they fall onto it, groaning, their hands grabbing for each other.

Leonardo wonders briefly how this will work out with the other having seemingly very bad experiences. He lets him lead, very mindful of the fire he’s playing with. His hands roam greedily across the expanse of bare skin that has taunted him for the last few days, down towards that nice firm arse that teased him as well whenever Girolamo had turned his back on him. _I can’t believe my luck!_

Girolamo kisses Leonardo fiercely. He had denied himself this for so very long. Giving in to these sinful desires is possibly the worst thing he can do when his soul is already in hell. But perhaps that's the very reason why he does allow himself to act in this way. All his decisions up till now had been as a result of the influence of others, for the benefit of others. And he's done with the world owning him. Leonardo is the only person who seems to have no hidden agenda for wanting to be with him. Who seems to genuinely give a shit about him without wanting something in return. Even if he's happy to give him something in return right now.

 He feels for the lacing of Leonardo's trousers and pulls them loose.

“Yes, please!” Leo breaks the all-consuming kiss briefly to voice his approval. He mirrors the action with one hand while he circles Riario’s backside with the other. Too long he had to keep his hands to himself, away from that. He licks his lips teasingly, inviting the count to ravish him anew. _Fuck he’s a fantastic kisser!_

“I want you,” Girolamo voices his need.  He groans into another kiss, sliding his hand inside Leo's trousers between them, gasping into that lovely mouth as he lays hands on the artist’s fine weapon.

Leonardo bucks up as he feels warm fingers slip around his cock. “I need you, Rio,” he breathes, relieved that the object of his desire now feels the same. He slides both his hands into the waistband of the count’s trousers, appreciating the firm skin on his arse cheeks and slowly making their way to the front, grabbing that slender rod and heavy balls.

Girolamo pushes his own trousers down, kicking them off. His whole body is aching for Leonardo now. Months he had dreamed about that finely shaped body underneath him. Of the muscles rolling under his fingers. Of his lips pressed against that sun-kissed skin. He helps Leonardo dispose of his garment too so that their bodies slide together without any barriers between them, hard and needy.

“Make me yours,” Leonardo breathes against those long desired lips. His fingertips outline the perfectly trimmed beard now as his pencil had earlier, while he moves his pelvis against that sculpture-like body above him. He rubs the soles of his bare feet over the other’s calves.

Being one with the most ingenious mind in Italy is a truly unique experience that cannot be rivalled. Leonardo's body accepts him as easily as a woman and yet he is the epitome of masculinity as he pulls him in, all strength and well-defined, hard muscles. It sends throbs of pleasure all through him as he slides into that heat, finally answering their bodies’ call.

Leonardo curves up and around the man who gives him the most incredible pleasure he’s ever known. His body is singing in those strong arms as they dance together in the waves of love making. He has waited so long for this, wondering sometimes if it ever would be possible. As his hopes come true now, he feels like he’s flying.  

 _“Artista…”_ Girolamo grins wantonly as he holds himself up over his lover, rocking into him slowly, admiring him closer than ever before.

“You are the true artist, Girolamo,” Leonardo moans, baring his throat as he throws his head back on the heights of being made love to. The normally ruthless warrior with the split soul takes such good care of him that he doesn’t know anymore where he ends and where his lover starts, what’s up and what’s down.  

Hearing his name spoken with so much love, such reverence, makes the count drive up the pace, wanting to make his incredible lover see stars. He grabs between them, taking Leonardo's cock in his hand with great care, pulling him off in the same rhythm in which he makes love to him, creating his very own painting with that fine pencil in his hand.

Leonardo presses his forehead against the juncture of Girolamo’s neck and shoulder, his eyes mesmerised on the hand that stimulates him so perfectly. He’s curled up almost completely to welcome the count into his body again and again, faster and faster, driving them towards completion. All his nerves thrum with the exquisite feeling, his voice lost between gasps and groans. Letting go completely.

The count grunts very low in his throat as his pleasure peaks. He tries to focus his efforts through his own climax to help his lover follow him into the abyss, drowning in the blissful feeling that makes him soar on such an extraordinary high.

“Rio! Yes! Fuck!” As Leonardo feels the count’s release warm up his insides, he falls over the edge too, bucking and writhing, grabbing the other’s head as he stares into his eyes throughout their climax, wanting to make sure Girolamo is all there with him.

Having Leonardo's bright eyes lock with his own as they come together is both arousing and reassuring, grounding him, keeping the demons at bay. He shudders as Leo spills into his hand, feeling his inner muscles squeeze around him.

He presses their lips together again, letting go of the man's delightful manhood so that he can press their bodies together, wanting to feel all of the artist rub up against him.

Leo slowly straightens himself, loving the feeling of having that sweaty body pressed right against his, smearing his seed between them. He threads his fingers through Girolamo’s fringe. “That was very unexpected, count,” he teases, “And very satisfying.”

Girolamo slowly rolls off Leonardo and rests next to him on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “Yes,” he says in his deep voice, drawing in a slow breath. He's grateful that the sinner stayed at bay. Or did it? He knows he was fully conscious and aware of every delightful moment. Perhaps it's like Leonardo had captured him on canvas. Not one or the other, but both.

“You must think me so weak,” he says, unsure whether he's talking to Leo, himself or God.

“Why is that?” Leo leans on his elbow, truly looking at Count Riario in the nude. His fingertips tracing those fine muscles without the burning desire but with the artist’s and medic’s eye. _He’s a true beauty,_ he thinks distractedly, feeling nicely mellow and drowsy, not really wanting to think at the moment, aware that his puzzle is even closer now though, even seeping out of him.

Girolamo closes his eyes briefly, enjoying those talented hands on him. “Since I have such poor control over my desires,” he answers guiltily.

Leonardo looks very thoughtful at him, "What is so bad about that?"

The count looks contemplatively at the other, curious how they can see things so differently and yet are pulled towards each other like that. He thinks about the question. He could of course quote a dozen verses that would answer it but he knows Leonardo will just dismiss that. “I don't know…” he has to admit.

"You and I," Leonardo smiles down into those confused but otherwise calm features, "we both enjoyed it, didn't we?" He softly brushes his lips across Girolamo's to make his point.

 

Girolamo smiles at that. “Yes.” He tentatively brushes his hand through Leonardo's hair. Impromptu sex was one thing. This, however, is something far more out of his comfort zone, lying together so intimately. He feels exposed and vulnerable and yet Leonardo's calm demeanour and his genuine interest in him stops him from jumping up. “It feels surprisingly right to be with you like this,” he croaks. “I guess you truly know all my darkest secrets now.”

"And you some of mine," Leo smiles back, tangling their legs together. He feels relieved that he gave himself to Rio, showing him his very vulnerable side and how much he enjoys that. “I think me desiring the Monster of Italy is the biggest of all.”

Riario gives a wry smile, mulling this over. _He likes the worm. But no, it's not as simple as that_.  He thinks back to the drawing, a window into how Leonardo da Vinci sees him. _He likes the whole, the sinner_ and _the saint._ “I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the Lord, who does all these things,” he mutters from The Scriptures out loud.

“Exactly,” Leonardo sighs. “It suits all aspects of life, of nature, of humanity ... and of God,” he muses, looking at Riario intently.

Girolamo nods, once more taken aback by how much this man, who on the surface seems to be his opposite in every way, appears to understand him better than he understands himself.

“I had best go back to my room …” he tries to carefully assess if he's outstayed his welcome now that they've reached that conclusion.

Leonardo frowns slightly, circling his hand slowly across his lover’s stomach. “That doesn’t make any sense, Rio,” he smiles again, feeling like he’s balancing on a very thin twig over ice cold water. “You said earlier it feels right to be here,” he clears his throat, “Why would you want to go back to your room then?”

“Because ... I don't know when the worm will take over again. And even if you admire him, you cannot control him and I do not want any harm to come to you, now more than ever.” He smiles up at Leonardo, his hand brushing his cheek, glancing into those dazzling eyes.

Leonardo leans into the careful touch, his heart singing. “Alright, but…” he traces the angry red marks on Girolamo’s throat from his own hands earlier, “How about you relax and let me deal with any problems that may occur? I think we've managed well enough so far and I for one would really like to lie here in your arms until the morning.” He pulls up the sheets a little. “Your choice,” he presses a kiss to that very smooth chest then looks up again.

Girolamo pulls his lover down into a deep, tender kiss. “Your _risk_ , maestro,” he whispers against those swollen lips. He is grateful though, not to be kicked out. He wraps his arms around Leonardo, pulling him closer, savouring the comfort of that warm body against his own, soothing all of his fears, all of his internal battles.

“I’ll gladly take it,” Leonardo murmurs after another deep, leisurely kiss. “You’re safe here, Girolamo.” He brushes his lips against the count’s forehead, holding him. _So good._ He smiles to himself as his hand softly caresses the other’s skin. Of course he doesn’t know what will happen, if he’s in any danger or not. But for now this does feel completely right, just as his former enemy and now lover had said.  

 _There is that word again - safe…_  

Girolamo understands all too well that that's an illusion and that the darkness within is part of him and will not so easily be dismissed. They've just added another complication, another transgression. But for now he can allow himself to feel like that, lying in the bed of the great Leonardo da Vinci, who accepts all of him. And for the first time in memory his dreams are void of his demons.


End file.
